Poem -
wilting things
Summer doesn't ever come alone
It comes with wasps and burnt
skin, it comes with drought and
wilting things
Babies don't ever come alone
They come with cries and
squirming
great dollops of worry, soiled
clothes and teething... a lifetime
spent learning
And love doesn't ever come for
free
Regardless of which kind or who
it may be, it's all...
I'll take on you and you'll take on
me
It's commitment and bonds and
a death to the 'me'
And death while we're at it
Well now that bitch comes free
It comes touting it's wares with a
salesman who smiles
It walks bold up the path while
you're looking away
Says well hi there...I'm death...
Guess it's your lucky day
M P.3/6/22
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Comments
For some it's seen lurking at the garden gate. Like at the other end of that patch you laid out in your own special way - that thing we call our life - and some fukker says hey, death is growing inside you, look after that garden whilst we sprinkle chemicals on you and burn you with radiation. Smile, it's only a promise away.
Very true my friend...thankyou x
Brilliant....and, actually, that last verse is a killer ( in a good way) xx
Aw thanks Tina...big hugs xx